Marketing has changed much during the brief span of my life. In earlier days, clothing was stocked by most ‘General Stores’ in a variety of sizes; including half sizes in order to better fit the majority of their clientele. In today’s age of discount everything; it is rare indeed to find an item in our particular size.

I once posed the question of why; to a store manager: When I had searched in vain for a pair of 42-inch trousers among scores of 28 inch through 34-inch pairs.

“It’s a matter of economics,” the manager said. “By making more of the smaller sizes, they are able to produce more pairs from the same amount of material; therefore, the profit margin is higher.”  “But what about us big bellied people?” I asked.

“Recent studies have born out the fact that there are more slim people than there are large people.” “We simply order a certain item, and the factory sends the sizes according to the studies,” the manager replied.

What happened to the Store Owner who knew his clientele well enough to be able to order sizes to fit every customer.  He also knew most of the preferred styles and colors. Although he usually knew what size shoes you wore, he nevertheless would take great pains to measure your feet to assure that the fit was perfect. This sometimes caused indignation when he informed a lady that she wore a size 9 instead of the requested size 5.

In many discount Shoe Stores today; it is next to impossible to find the exact size of the shoe that you like.  Instead you are encouraged to purchase a larger size because your particular size has been discontinued.

Once, while browsing in a Shoe Store among thousands of pairs of the latest fashionable shoes,  I began searching for the Metal Measuring Device, that earlier stores had at least one or two and I could not find even one throughout the store. I inquired about this from a clerk and was told, “That’s what the benches are for.”  “Try them on and determine if they feel good.”

Somehow, I cannot rationalize that these sales techniques are better than to have your measurements taken and then being asked the one question; “Black or Brown?”  In fact, I have never heard one of today’s clerks reply, when you asked for black: 

“NO, Demijon;   Brown will GO better with that new suit you ordered from Montgomery-Ward and with that pair of socks you got for Christmas.”   “Just don’t wear the ‘TIE;’ on which is duplicated:  The “SWIM SUIT.” of the Season:  From Sports Illustrated,”

Recently, I noticed an abandoned store building being renovated. Several weeks later; when passing that same building, I saw a sign in a front window that announced SHOES – $20.00.’

“Now you know me!”  “I’ve always been a  glutton for a bargain.”  “Therefore, I   investigated and found that they, indeed were offering thousands of pairs of Shoes for only $20.00 each.”

Diligently searching, I discovered a pair that was identical to the ones I was wearing, for which I had paid $85.00 and change. Needless to say, I was somewhat disturbed.

Now I really don’t like to pass up such a bargain, but I did not need another pair at this time. However: “Rationality;” raised its ugly head and I began searching for a second pair in size 11-W. 

30 minutes later, I found this same style Shoe sitting on a box underneath a table. I grabbed the box and retreated to a bench at the back of the shop, to try them on. Imagine my surprise when I opened the box and found that the other shoe was a size 7.  “A tad too small.”

Angry and sweating, I approached the manager to ask where the correct shoe was and was told,  We just take what they send us.”  My next question was;  “If I had purchased  this box without examining the contents, would you refund my money?”

He pointed to a sign above the register that read, “NO EXCHANGES” – ” NO RETURNS!”

So much for bargains. “I can also remember when:”  Bread’; was an important part of the human diet, and was far removed from the medium of exchange stored in Banks.”



W-a-a-a y,  Back: In the days before ‘Adolph Hitler was a Corporal; Houses were constructed with the use of Handsaws, Cross-Cut Saws, Hammers, Axes, and the like.

However: One standard feature was not included. “Wire and Mesh Window Screens.”  In many cases, these additions were cost prohibitive since most folks were suffering from the ravages of The Great Depression:   If, indeed; they were available;
They were not considered, absolutely necessary; Most homes were not even insulated and were built with ‘Galvanized’ ‘Tin;’ as the roof covering of choice.

This meant that the windows were left opened as much as possible for relief from the unbearable heat of the Summer months. “Fly Swatters; and Other Means, were kept at the ready, especially at meal times, to discourage these pests.

One of these deterrents could be purchased at all General Stores for the price of; Ten,  to 20 cents each.  The product was a small round tube, containing an extremely, sticky, rolled-up, Ribbon.  To use: One only had to unroll the ribbon and hang the tape to the ceiling over the eating Table. Whatever substance was embedded on the Ribbon; was irresistible to “House-Flies”; and they became stuck to the; “Fly-Paper.  At times during the peak of the Summer months, the Ribbon would have to be changed every day.

When the Depression eased somewhat, folks began to purchase window screens and tack them to the outside of the windows. If they had any Fly Paper left over, it was moved to the porch as a deterrent to Mosquitoes as well as Flies, therefore making resting on the porch in the evenings more bearable.

I have not seen a tube of ‘Fly Paper’ in over 60 years; but through the technology of cyberspace, my computer recognized my inquiry and displayed a familiar photograph of this long-ago, “Pest-Preventative:”  Complete with “It’s Victims”.   As bad as I hate to admit it, the computer retains memories that even my ‘sharp-as-a-tack’ mind has forgotten.

Many folks of today’s generation probably find living under these conditions unbelievable as they relax in insulated, air-conditioned houses. Those of us who are on the far side of Social Security can more appreciate today’s comfortable homes because; “We were here before some of today’s homes are being built in a giant factory; trucked to the home site; and lifted onto the foundation by an enormous Crane.”


We also were taught to meet a challenge:  “To keep the home free from the pesky, “House-Fly’s; by any possible means:”  “We Sprayed:”  “Swatted:”  “Fanned:”  “Cussed up a Blue Streak:”  and finally discovered that;  “The Only ‘Tried & True method was to;  ‘Hang Fly – Paper;’  “Throughout the House and Pray.”            Dj.


“I discovered from the News Media, that President  “W. Bush,” is the first ‘Retired, Chief Executive; in the history of America to receive a salary of $400,000 dollars per year.” “If this is true?”  “Add to it, free room and board, anywhere; a limousine; an airplane, and/or’ a helicopter, at his disposal, a staff of hundreds to fulfill his every wish, 24 hour protection from anyone wishing to get within one hundred yards of him and other perks too numerous to name.”  “Is it, therefore, any wonder that he and The Vice President, seemed happy for the vote count to favor them?”

The festivities for Mr. “W’s” inaugural; although paid for in part by private contributions, would go a long way toward satisfying the national debt and feed many of our nation’s hungry.  Albeit, the man has two daughters in college: But it is entirely possible that the Congress has found a loophole in the laws to distribute a few of the available, proposed school vouchers to the two “Junior’s;” so they too, will have the proper background for a career in politics.

“Has anyone who is in need of a tax write-off considered a trust fund to bolster the sagging Social Security and Medicare programs?”  “Perhaps Mr. Gates, Mr. Forbes, a few professional athletes; or even members of the Congress would be willing to underwrite such a venture if lead by The Chief Executive.”  “A small portion from each of the countries wealthiest would solve the problem.”  “It is certainly a worthwhile project for those seeking a tax loophole.”

All of the above will be paid for, in part, by those of us who cannot even comprehend a salary and benefits of this magnitude.  Many of us who will be forking over our tax dollars to help with these expenses are already so poor that CVS refuses to build a pharmacy on our streets.  Even Burger King and Home Depot seeks a more affluent location for their stores.

“I: like many “fellow Americans” have trouble with such enormous expenditures, especially when the goal of most politicians seems to be curtailing the sole benefits of many who depend on programs such as Social Security and Medicare and Medicaid for their livelihood.  Transferring these funds to investments such as the stock market could very easily deplete the source of income for those who need it most.

“Granted, I do not have answers to all the nation’s problems but it would certainly seem that  a little from those who have so much; could guarantee a healthy entitlement programs for those who rely on Medicare, Social Security and Medicaid for their very existence.”  “Insurance companies advertise that the average funeral costs over $4,000.00, and yet no one in governmental service has seen fit to author or support a bill to raise the “Social Security death benefit from the original $255.00.”  “I Wonder Why?”“How about it; President “TRUMP”  “Will you be willing to lead by example and relinquish a small portion of your windfall to aid your; “Fellow Americans?”             Respectfully submitted;    Demijon

“Th’ Horsepistol”

A  While ago; I had done went an’ messed-up my back a’totin’-in stove wood; an’ had to go to th’ Doc.fer him to ‘zammin hit an’ he made me go to th’ Horsepistol.  They upped an’ jammed me in a bed an’ tolt me that a Nuss-Lady would take care uv me.

I laide in that bed fer ’bout a hour an’ th’ door flew open, an’ this-hear rale perty young gal come a’marchin’ in.  She said, Howdy.  I’m “Miss Lucyie- Lue”;  an’ I’se gonna be lookin’ atter you’uns whilst y’all stays hear.  “Now, What’s th’ fust-thang  you want?”  

“Well-sr; I ask her that, iffin she had a bottle uv’ ‘White-Lightin’ hid in a boot, b’hind’ th’ door?”   “Iff’in she did:  Thin; I wuddin’ mind samplin’ hit.  “Iffin’ hit be’s as good as my Pa makes; then, I’d buy a ‘half-pint’ frum her; jus’ as soon as Old Doc turn’t me loose frum thare.”   

  Miss Lucyie-Lue;’ She turnt red as a beet; an’ sez ta’ me; she sez;   ‘How’d you fine-out ’bout my boot?  I tolt her that her “NUSS-CAP didn’t quiet-hide that “Co-Coler” -Bottle, a’stickin out’en them Nuss Shoes, whot she had tryed to cover wiff her Nuss- Coat.”

Lo an’ Behold;  she whipped out a needle from under her apron an’ jabbed me ’bout fourteen inches in my rite arm, an’ sez;  “That were jus’ th’ start.”  “You keep runnin-off yo’mouff, and thangs will get wuss, fer sure.”  “Now: Take this hear pill an’ shut up.”

“Old Doc; He come in ’bout thirty minutes atter Miss Licyie-Lue had leff; an’ he axed me: “How come; Youv-got yo clothes on; an’ you’sr a’settin behind th’ Bed-Stead?

I sez to him, I sez:  “Doc: You done went an harred a ‘good-un’,- whenst you hairred that-thare Nuss-Ladie; “Miss Lucie-Lue:”  “She’s done went an’ Curred my back; so they ain’t nothin’ fer you to do, ’round hear:”  “So whiy-on’t you take them little rubber hoses outten your years; an’ go on down to that thare; “GOFF-CORSE”?  You jus mought win more thare, than this-hear Horsepitol pays.

“Jus’ hand me that ‘CO-COLER’  Bottle; whot’s a’settin’ behint th’ door an’ I’ll be all -rite.”  “Miss Lucie-Lue, has done went an offered me a ride home”….  Thankee!”


“Th’ ‘Partment Store”

Light a candle;  Have a glass of wine;  Read slowly, and enjoy this post.  It’s DEEP. DEEP.

T’other day, me an’ Susie Mae driv down to that thare place whot they call th’ Mall.  Now, Susie Mae, she gits in such a all-fired dither whenst we-uns go to one of them thare places, she pert’ near goes wild.  We’s a’strollin’ ’round, mindin’ our’n own business an’ Susie Mae commenced a’pintin’ an’ she sez, “Jay Henry, honey, would you jus’ lookee over yonder.  They’s a feller over thare in one uv them winders, a’takin’ th’ dress offen that thare womern an’ she ain’t got nary a stitch on under hit.”

Fust thang I sez to her wus, “Susie Mae, I done tolt you a hunnert time ‘er more that hit ain’t perlite ta pint.” “You keep that up an’ folks a’gonna thank you ain’t never had no raisin’.”  Then I ‘splained to her that them thare folks had them some people whot  wus made outten plastic ‘er sumpin, whot they put them clothes on jus’ to show ’em off an’ they called them man-ikins,

Well, Susie Mae, she pouted fer a spell an’ then she sez,  “Jay Henry, honey, you’s jus as blind as a bat.  That thare ain’t no man-i-kin.  That thares a womern-i-kin.”

Now me, I wont ’bout ta’ tetch that wiff a ten foot pole so we-uns jus walked ’round some more.  We come up on one uv them ‘partment stores an’ Susie Mae, she flung a pure-tee fit to go an’ look in thare.  Hit were one uv them thare Kay-Marts ‘er sumpin an’ you ain’t gonna bleve all th’ stuff  thay had in thare.

They wus one corner in thare whare they had put some tanks whot wus made outten glass an’ thay wus purely filled up wiff th’ pertyest lettle fish you ever laid eyes on.  Susie Mae, she commenced a’takin’ a safety pin outten her brayzere an’ were a’bendin’ hit an’ I axed her whot she wus a’fixin to do.  “I’se a’gonna holp them folks out an’ cotch them a mess uv them thare fish,” she sez.

I drug her outten thare jus’ ‘fore that thare Po-lece come in an we-uns went on somers else to look.  Atter while, I commenced a’gittin’ hongary.  We-uns rounded a corner in that thare place an we come up on one uv them  eatin’ places what they calls a food court.

I tolt her that we-uns could git us sompin to eat thare and she kinda grinned an’ sez, “Jay Henry, honey, we-uns ain’t courted none in nigh’bout twenty years an’ I ain’t ’bout ta start back up now wiff all them folks a-starin’ at us’ens.  ‘Sides, these hear folks is crazy as bedbugs, they ain’t even no jedge in that thare court,”

Atter I satisfyed her that this here were a place to eat, we got us some hot dogs an’ a bellywasher an’ went on.  Susie Mae, she wonted to git her a new lamp chimbley. She had broke th’ old one more’n a week ago and she had been complainin’ ever since ’bout th’ lamp a’smokin.

We-uns finally fount a store whot said LAMPS an’ we-uns went in.  A perty young gal come up to us an’ sez, “May I help you?”  Susie Mae, she  sez, “No’m, we-uns don’t need no help, we-uns jus wonts us a lamp chimbley.” “Is your lamp a G.E.?” that gal axed.  “No’m, hits a Karesene, Susie mae sez.   “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of that brand of lamp,” the gal sez.

Susie mae, she flew hot an’ she sez, “Less-us go, Jay Henry, honey.  These here folks don’t know nothin’.  We-uns’ll jus’ order us one frum th’ catalog.”

Whenst I finally got her outten that mall an’ we-uns come on back to th’ shack, Susie Mae, she sez, “I knowed we orte’n not to of went down thare, whare them thare folks all ack like theys been drapped on th’ head whenst they wus younguns.  They jus’ ain’t got nary-a-bit uv sense.  I bet they ain’t nary a one uv ’em whot’s ever tried ta’ learn sompin’  frum bein’ ’round folks whot be’s as re-fined an’ cultured as we-uns be’s.”

Now, y’all got to ‘member that Susie Mae, she wont nothin’ like as refined and cultured up to th’ time I married up wiff her an’ made sompin outten her!

“She shore do be’s proud of that.”

Writ by Jay Henry.  Edited by Demijon.

“Perty-much like th’ Blind a’leadin’ th’ Blind”.        Dj.


One of my hero’s from the days of yore, was the late Louis Grizzard.  Louis was a columnist for The Atlanta Constitution.  He was also the author of numerous books and a much sought after public speaker.  Many of his speech’s were recorded and I was fortunate to acquire a couple of them.

His boy-hood days were spent in a small town in Georgia and it was from here that most of his stories originated.  One rendition that has been a favorite of mine was of the custom in many small towns that I vividly remember.  It was called, “Sitting up with the dead.”

I cannot recall, nor will I attempt, to re-tell these stories word for word; but will try not to deviate from the original.  Any inaccuracies can be blamed on my fading memory.
“Uncle Cleve died and his body was sent to the McKibben Brothers Funeral Home where it was prepared for burial.  In the last years of his life, Uncle Cleve suffered from an illness that caused him to be bent over.  ‘The Brothers’ became concerned about how to lay him flat in a casket.

Rabbit; The oldest brother, (a graduate of Georgia Tech, School of Funeral Engineering), came to the conclusion that they would have to strap him down.

It was also custom to bring the deceased home for several days before the Funeral Service.  The ones chosen to ‘sit up with the dead,’ were Waylon, Bubba, and Earl.

When all the friends and neighbors had departed, the three assignee’s sat in the parlor where the casket was arranged between two floor lamps. For comfort, they fanned themselves with the hand-held, Funeral Home Fans that were provided by The McKibben’s.

The cardboard fans boasted a likeness of Heaven on one side and a picture of McKibben Funeral Home on the other.  The three Sitters relaxed as much as possible in the folding, metal chairs; and stared at Uncle Cleve’s nose over the side of the casket.

Around ten o’clock, Bubba said, “If y’all are going to sit up; I believe I’ll go to bed.”  That said, he rose and left the room.  A couple of hours later, Earl said, “Waylon: if you’re going to sit up; I think I’ll go to bed also.” He too, left the room. This left Waylon, sitting alone in the room with Uncle Cleve.

At precisely 2:00 a.m., there “Come up a bad cloud.”  A storm so fierce that it rattled the windows.  Thunder roared and lightning flashed for what seemed to Waylon hours before the intensity of the storm reached its peak.

Suddenly, there came an extremely loud clap of thunder; and lightning lit up the room as if it were daylight. It was so furious that it knocked out every light from Moreland, Georgia to downtown Spartanburg, South Carolina.  The metal Funeral Home chair that Waylon sat in was charged with so much static electricity that he tingled from his head to his toes.

Perhaps it was coincidence; but it was at that exact moment when the strap, that Rabbit Mckibben had tied the corpse down with; broke and Uncle Cleve came rising out of that casket.  It was right then that Waylon; “Cast down his Funeral Home fan.” “Rose up from his Funeral Home chair; and loudly stated… “UNCLE CLEAVE: IF YOU’RE GOING TO SIT-UP; I BELIEVE I’LL GO TO BED TOO!”

In my humble opinion; among humorists; The late, Louis Grizzard had no equals. I suppose the main reason that I make a feeble attempt to emulate his style of writing; is that we both found that laughter could ease the hardships of growing up “Lacking.”


Anyone who can say, “I caught myself looking”; has most probably; “Sat Up With The Dead;” at one time or another.

My Friends:  This story is all to real to me;  Because “I have Sat up with the dead.”   DJ.


DEFINITION:  An enormous mammal that inhabits the depths of the oceans of the world. RIGHT? *** “Wrong!”

The word is merely a preface to a long winded tale being told around the pot-bellied, wood burning stove at the “Feed and Seed Store<” in downtown Lexton, South Carolina.

It is here that one gathers all the pertinent local news as well as being allowed the opportunity to expound on any subject from weather, politics, gossip; and even up to and including world affairs. Since topics are not limited, these discussions sometimes become lively indeed, for instance—–;

“Whale, I’ll tell you one thing. If I’us President: I wudn’t let them other fellers tell me how’ta run th’ country. Doin’ ‘way wiff welfare’s jus’ lak shootin’ yo’ bes’ bird dog on purpose. Don’t ‘complish a dang thang ‘cept ya haff ta buy a nother’n.

This profundity is launched from one “good old boy” while leaning back with only two legs of the straight chair touching the floor. To emphasize his remarks, he forms a “V” with the first and middle finger of his right hand. Placing the fingers on each side of his mouth, he aims a stream of tobacco juice toward the square box of sand that is the base for the stove.

Assured that he has gotten his point across; he places his hands behind his head, causing the cap with the big yellow letters “CAT” on the front to tilt slightly. He then, yields the floor to his learned colleague on the other side of the stove.

Removing his pipe from the pocket of his bib overalls, Jethro sifted an amount of Prince Albert tobacco into the bowl and expounded; “Them folks over in Rushie been mouthing- off fer years.”  “Why’ont we jus go on an’ whup ’em an’ be done wiff hit”. “Pears ta me la’k they’s scairt ‘er the’ud done an’ jumped at us”.  “When we gits real serruse, they jus’ ups an’ backs off”.   “Whale, th’ way I looks at hit; jus’ send all them Rushie folks down here an’ me an’ Bubba’ll whup em’ wiff nothin’ but a claw hammer an’ a pile uv brick bats.”

Fearing that he would not get his chance at the podium, another “Good Old Boy”, interrupted the discussion with a request that is synonymous with important meetings of this nature, stating; “HEY; Loomus; Han’ me me of them Grape Co-Cola’s frum outten the ice box.”   “And Buster;  Will you pitch me a pack uv them peanuts?” Cupping his hand around the neck of the bottle, he poured the peanuts into the grape drink.
When all the nuts were floating in the purple liquid, he continued, “Why’ont they all do lak Jesse Lee Barlow done his wife.”

“How;s that; Buck?”

“Whale, she had been aggervatin him fer a long time ’cause he purely loved ta watch ‘rasslin’ on th’ T & V.”   He jus’ ‘cided ta cuore her oncet an’ fer all. Whale, he jus up’t an’ shot her right in th’ head wiff his’ns twenty guage shotgun; jus ’cause she wudn’t eat her ‘rat- poison’ lak he done axed her to.”


Definition of the word Stairway: “Them folks don’t believe drinking makes’um ‘getting high.”  “It makes them ‘STAIR-WAY-OFF’ into space”.



What used to be described as a .50 cent word, (eclectic); would probably now be worth at least $2.25, by allowing for inflation.  However, this word more nearly describes my style of writing.  Incidents from my past are recorded for the sole purpose of proving that a time and place such as recounted in these stories did, in fact, exist.

Many of the occurrences are exaggerated somewhat, in order to enhance the continuity, while others are figments of the writer’s imagination; but most are based on actual events, that happened while trying to get relief from the miserable heat.

Take, for instance, the story of Myrtle, (not her real name).  She possessed a mortal fear of water.  Deep in the woods adjacent to her father’s property was located a pond which was the gathering place for all of the neighborhood children for at least a part of each day during the long, hot summer.  Attempts to entice Myrtle into the cooling water amounted to naught.  She was content to merely sit on the bank and dabble her feet in the murky depths.

One day Jasper;  again, (not his name).  Appeared at the favorite watering hole with two dried gourds and a length of rope.  “What have you got there, Jasper?”  asked Myrtle.  “Water Wings;” replied the boy with a grin.

He sat down on the bank and tied the gourds together:  Placed the rope under his arms; and jumped into the pond.  The dried gourds supported his weight with ease and he floated around for a while before climbing out and saying to Myrtle.

“Now all that you have to do in order to learn to swim is to take these two gourds and tie one to the big toe of each foot……”

For about a month afterward; Jasper remained secluded:  While the swelling in his face subsided and the broken ribs healed.  Myrtle, on the other hand, succeeded in learning to swim by the use of the gourds in the conventional position, under the arms.

ECLECTIC  stories such as this; were abundant during my youth, and remembering them is the shot of ‘nostalgia’ that I need to prevent me from growing old.  “As long as these memories continue, I will still be the young boy who roamed the countryside: ‘in search of new and Interesting stories; to keep “The Demijon Blog;” from growing stale.”   Dj.



I go back to what some folks refer to as the good old days. Their primary reasoning for this description of the 1930’s is that they have heard, from us old folks, that a pair of shoes could be purchased for $1.98 or a shirt for $0.98.

They have not taken into consideration that one would have to work for better than two days to earn enough for these expenditures. In those days, an adult’s weekly wages would have amounted to less than the money that many of today’s children receive as an ‘Allowance.’ I suppose the fact of the financial situation of most families during and just after the depression was, at best, despondent; is the reason that even now, I cannot bring myself to pay $150.00 or $200.00 for a pair of shoes.

Allowances, were something enjoyed by the rich, city, children and something that rural kids only dreamed about. Any monies that they were able to earn were combined in an effort to keep the wolf from the door.

As the economy improved, more modern conveniences were added to the lives of rural Americans . A couple of these conveniences were the Automobile and the Telephone. The automobile was perhaps the most helpful for the rural families since they could travel distances in a few hours that would take all day in a horse-drawn wagon. But, few of today’s citizens are aware that their cost for a tank of gasoline for their $25-30,000 Cars is more than the average adult wages for a Month back then.

Now comes the Telephone. The first of which was a wall-mounted box with a crank that rang into Central; where a pleasant voice would answer; Number, Please.”  If we did’nt know the number, all that was necessary was to ask Central to ring ‘Dr. Pervis.’ If the call was confidential, we simply asked  (two of several people on our party line):  Mrs. Belton and Mrs. Smith, to hang up.

Certainly, we were not asked to Press or Say English.”  Nor were we asked press or say if we; “wanted an appointment, or were asking about a bill, etc’.

These computer-driven telephones have been a thorn in my side for several years. Dialing a number and being asked to say what language I want to speak really grates on my last nerve.

Hey, Look, Folks.”  This is America and we are Americans, talking on an American telephone. If different languages are so important to the ones we are calling, they should hire an Interpreter, to answer their damned telephone. I seriously doubt if any other country worries about whether or not we can understand when we make a call on their  telephone.

“I’ll quit bitching, Now.”



With crime running rampant throughout the country, unique ways of curbing the onslaught are surfacing.  Purchases of hand guns have risen to almost phenomenal proportions.  Permits for the ownership of weapons are now being issued to people who otherwise would have scorned possession of these items.  Their logic is; (and possibly true); that when all weapons are banned, the only ones to possess guns will be the criminals.

It has almost reached the point to where everyone has rights with the exception of the victims.  *If a suspect is apprehended while in the process of committing a murder,* they are often released on a technicality; or else;  (if convicted), only serve a short time because of overcrowding in the prisons.  This could very well be the reasons for the increase in violence.  With little or no penalties, what do they have to lose?

I can vividly remember a time when no one even considered locking their homes. *If a neighbor needed to borrow a ‘cup of sugar,’ they had already returned the favor for their home.  “The way it worked was;

“While away:”  “If  a neighbor would have need of borrowing something; they would not hesitate to enter and borrow the item.  Likewise, you were encouraged to do the same if you had a need for an item at their home.”  Those truly, were the “good old days”.

“However:”   “I recall hearing my father say that he would NOT allow anyone to:  (A), “Leave his house hungry, (B), insult my mother and (C), kick his dog.”  Crime was the least of his worries.

No thought was given to a romantic stroll along the streets on a moonlit evening and perhaps window shopping in the downtown area.  No one would pass a pedestrian without offering a ride.  Car-jacking was unheard of and kidnapping was only in isolated instances where ransom could be demanded.  Certainly not for the fun of it.

Since recent crime bills have done nothing to control violence, many have resorted to their own methods of protection.  Signs such as; “1 – 2- 3 Security, Inc.”  House protected By COLT – 44.  –  Doberman loose Inside.  –  and my favorite;  “Highly trained Attack Poodle;” have appeared almost overnight.  People are getting serious about their rights to feel safe and are doing something about it themselves.

Lawmakers would be wise to stiffen the penalties to the point that it would become intolerable for anyone to commit a violent crime.  Only then can they hope to achieve a workable control over the guns that Americans now need for their own protection.